


Bang Bang

by meltokio



Category: Borderlands (Video Games)
Genre: Alternate Universe, F/F, Pre-Canon
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-05-09
Updated: 2017-05-09
Packaged: 2018-10-30 01:16:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 666
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10866015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meltokio/pseuds/meltokio
Summary: Prompts and drabbles focused on a relationship between Fiona and Nisha that started before the events of the Presequel.





	1. See you, Space Cowgirl.

She listens to the recording one more time before she throws the ECHO in the trash. She’d already had to suffer the indignity of crawling back to Felix and Sasha after her dramatic departure. Having that hunk of metal with Nisha’s words bundled up in it is practically torture. Fiona extracts her bit by bit; throws out the second pistol, burns the clothes she’d been bought, the grainy photographs, the lewd notes on the backs of single dollar bills. The memories die harder, though. every time she hears a certain song she feels a knot in her throat, some invisible needle pricking the backs of her eyes. One time she got a whiff of leather and sunk into such a mood that even Sasha tiptoed around her.

She lives her life in sepia tones, drained of all shades and vibrance after seeing things in technicolor. Cons lose their flavor. Lying isn’t fun anymore. She walks around with one indifferent eye on the present and one peering into the blurry past. The dust- and sweat- and lipstick-stained past. Everything burned back then, radiant heat. Now it’s just lukewarm bathwater, cloudy and stagnant.

With time it gets better. Fiona can talk about her now without her jaw clenching up. She apologizes to Sasha and Felix in little ways: trinkets and dinners made before they get home. Things fall back into place, slowly and surely and without any ceremony or announcement. Shit just works out like that sometimes. Like the rotation of the planet. Seasons pass without you even noticing.

Fiona drops smoking entirely, sick of smelling like _her_ , until one day she shares a cigarette with an introspective jazz singer on the flats, flicking ash into warm wind. The Helios H winks against the backdrop of a luminous moon when the glimpse of a shooting star arcs across the blanket of black.

"Make a wish," the crooner says through a nicotine cloud.

Fiona scoffs, a rough scrape in the back of her throat, before putting her half-smoked cig out on the bottom of her boot. "Kiss my ass." 

She knows exactly who she’d waste that ephemeral wish on. A woman she told herself didn’t deserve it but knew she did.


	2. Tangle

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Good ol' cowgirl bondage.

She can't see a goddamn thing.

But she can smell heady incense and spiced perfume, taste chalky smoke when ruby-red lips part to gasp or sigh. Every so often, her ears pick up the padding of bare feet across linoleum as Nisha paces to and fro around her. She can feel silk around her wrists, the rusted-metal pipe jutting between them from the bed frame, an opaque velvet blindfold around her eyes, gusts of fetid air from the lazy ceiling fan vacillating above. And, painfully few and far between, fingertips, leather, lips, breath, teeth, tongue. Goosebumps trail after the brief, disciplined contact — her own skin raising desperate for something more than it’s allowed. Sixty seconds feels like eternity before she feels the whisper of fingertips inside her thigh, tracing a pattern of coy spirals upwards and stopping just short of satisfaction. She tips her chin back in frustration, growling savage and unbidden through gritted teeth.

Her next temptations are fingernails at her navel, clawing a trio of gentle tracks down the plane of her stomach. This time she’s feeling brazen so she lifts her hips, cheating in the hopes that her audacity will entice Nisha into mercy — but she’s punished for her efforts; subject to another excruciating minute of sensory deprivation.

The Lawbringer croons orders, tells her recite pleas and address her properly, and Fiona finds that she’ll do just about anything to appease her (not that she doesn’t outside the bedroom, either, but this situation is all the more immediate.) Finally, after starving for touch, she’s awarded sweet release (deafening and savage; so overwhelming that her ears ring afterward.)

And after, when they lay twined around each other like serpents, sweat-slick and drunk on each other, she murmurs into her lover’s collarbone; "I think I’m into this."


End file.
